A Sonnet

A sonnet is a wondrous form of verse

Of fourteen lines in metre regular and fair

Which rhyme each other line except, to be perverse

The final couplet forms a single rhyming pair

Yet in this simple form the poet crafts all life

Words through ages past and present tumble

To charm, astound and sometimes cut, just as a knife

To twist our hearts and humour: make us humble

That we cannot achieve what they so simply capture

The smiths who bend each syllable and word to wing

Thoughts and feelings back to we, who read in rapture

And delight in word song that these poets sing

I could not write a good one if I tried forever

And so I wrote about them, an honest fool’s endeavour.

Robert Winston McNaughton

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s